


The Tales We Tell Each Other

by ezekiels



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-23
Updated: 2013-02-23
Packaged: 2017-12-03 08:19:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/696225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ezekiels/pseuds/ezekiels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Morgause wished her feelings for Gwen were not so complicated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Tales We Tell Each Other

It wasn’t simply a matter of pride, although Morgause wished it was. If it was about pride then perhaps she would have told Morgana. She told Morgana everything –everything but this.

Morgause wished she could stop. She wished she didn’t come to this place by the lake every night once Morgana fell asleep. She wished her heart didn’t pound in fear that tonight her secret lover would not come to her. She wished she didn’t need Guinevere but she did. Whenever they were together, everything was perfect and clear for the first time in her life.

Gwen kissed her shoulder then glanced up at her with shy eyes.

Morgause had always wondered why Gwen always came. Surely, Gwen did not come for the same reasons Morgause did. Surely. Yet Morgause always found herself hoping that maybe Gwen did come for that impossible reason.

“I was wondering,” Gwen said, drawing nervous circles over Morgause’s heart. “What exactly is this place? I’ve been here a hundred times-” She blushed and quickly added “before” for clarification. “But I’ve never known what this place was called.”

Morgause glanced out at the lake, its water black but its ripples silver. A small layer of mist that had descended from the snow-capped White Mountains earlier that day hovered over the lake. It reminded Morgause of a place she had seen once as a child –encircled in the arms of her mother’s most trusted friend. The Isle of the Blessed wasn’t the same as this lake though. The time Morgause had spent with Nimueh could never compare to the times she had spent with Gwen by this lakeside. It hurt Morgause to admit it but it was true.

“People call it the Lake of Avalon,” Morgause said. “But, before the great purge, it had another name.”

Gwen propped her head up with her hand, her elbow resting in the dirt. “Tell me,” she said with a smile.

This was the problem: they always ended up telling each other fairytales. If Morgause had never told Gwen tales in return, her feelings for Gwen would not be so complicated. Somehow, Morgause doubted she had ever stood a chance. Whenever Gwen gave her that smile, she gave into every demand.

“There used to be a small island out there,” Morgause said, gesturing to the lake. “It was called the Isles of Avalon and it was rumoured fairies lived there. 

“Their princess fell for a servant girl just before the great purge. Fairies do not have problems with such things and, moments before the great purged was announced, the princess and the servant girl were reciting their vows. 

“Just before the servant girl could finish hers, the news came. Infuriated, the king’s brother killed the servant girl and the princess. 

“Blood had never been split on the Isle before and the consequences were instantaneous. The Isle sunk below the surface of the lake, never to be seen again. 

“It is said that the king’s brother and his daughter were banished from Avalon for his crimes. It is also said that the spirits of the princess and her lover were turned to pearls that landed on opposite sides of the lake –forever parted.”

Gwen sighed. “Do any of your tales have happy endings?” she asked.

“A few,” Morgause said reluctantly.

She had been avoiding telling tales with happy endings for months now. Telling them meant that she believed in them. Telling them meant that, secretly, she was hoping Gwen and her would somehow have a happy ending as well.

Gwen reached out, took Morgause’s hand, and kissed it. She looked up at Morgause through her eyelashes. “Tell me,” she said. “And not just any story. Tell me your favourite one.”

“I do have one I’m rather fond of,” Morgause confessed.

Gwen squeezed her hand. “Then tell me it.”

Morgause took a deep breath, trying to fight the urge to speak. Like always, she lost the fight and began yet another story.

“Once upon a time,” Morgause said, “there lived a sorceress who fell in love with a blacksmith-”

Gwen smirked. “Did she now?”

Morgause narrowed her eyes at Gwen. It would only take a little spell for her to steal Gwen’s voice away but she would never do that. Not to Gwen.

“This is my story,” Morgause said. “Now be quiet.”

Gwen fell silent but she did so with a smile on her face and a mischievous look in her eye.


End file.
